


Circencester Park

by Esteliel



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Blow Jobs, Horses, Leather, Light Bondage, M/M, Yuleporn, Yuletide Treat, stables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: It's for charity,Henry had typed patiently when Alex had complained at him in another long string of three a.m. messages, trying very, very hard not to think of Henry in his leather boots and skin-tight white jodhpurs and a polo shirt that drew attention to the firm muscles of his arms.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 316
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Circencester Park

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum/gifts).



The Maserati Jerudong Park Trophy. Even the name was ridiculous. What the hell did he think he was doing, actually feeling _sad_ about missing out on another few excruciating hours of having to watch Henry gallop back and forth on a field swinging his oversized croquet mallet?

_It’s for charity,_ Henry had typed patiently when Alex had complained at him in another long string of three a.m. messages, trying very, very hard not to think of Henry in his leather boots and skin-tight white jodhpurs and a polo shirt that drew attention to the firm muscles of his arms.

“Ridiculous,” Alex muttered again, shaking his head at himself, although there was a smile on his lips as he looked around the Circencester Park polo club.

The Maserati Jerudong Park Trophy wasn’t happening for another week. By then, Alex would be safely back across the Atlantic where no visions of unfairly hot British royals in their horrible, skin-tight polo outfits would give him unfortunate boners in public, so all in all, it was for the best.

Alex had no idea why he’d accepted Henry’s invitation to visit him out here at the polo club where he was training before his charity match. If match was even what they called it. Given Alex’s experiences so far, it probably had some ridiculous name that first came into fashion in the nineteenth century and hadn’t changed since then.

The driver had dropped him off at the stables of the club, which was where Henry had promised to meet him. Just when Alex had pulled out his phone a door opened, Henry stepped into the courtyard, and Alex forgot what he’d been meaning to say because holy shit.

Henry was wearing leather boots and black jodhpurs with a leather patch at the inside of his legs that had been worn to a smooth shine. He wasn’t wearing a polo shirt this time, just a simple, long-sleeved shirt in light blue. He’d left the top three buttons unbuttoned, the bastard, and Alex found that he couldn’t look away from how the skin at his throat gleamed with sweat.

“Hey, Alex.” Henry raised a hand in greeting. “Glad you could make it. Want to meet the girls?”

Play it cool, Alex told himself, despite his racing heartbeat and the almost irresistible need to slide his hand up that smooth leather all the way to Henry’s groin.

The courtyard was empty, but that didn’t mean anything. People knew that Henry was training for the polo match. Every haystack could hide a paparazzi.

Not that there were any haystacks he could see, but even so.

“What girls?” he said when he finally reached Henry, gritting his teeth when Henry lightly touched his shoulder instead of pulling him into his arms for a passionate kiss.

Henry nodded at the door, and with an internal shrug, Alex followed. So help him, if Henry thought that Alex was willing to waste their precious hours together on a get-together with his team mates...

“That’s Jade,” Henry said, running a gentle hand up the nose of a curious chestnut horse. The mare’s ears flicked forward as she watched Alex, although she remained perfectly calm, letting him approach while Henry patted her neck.

“Don’t worry, they’re both well-behaved. You need that in a polo pony. Nerves of steel, both of them.”

Alex reached out his hand, and Jade sniffed at it, snorting in displeasure a moment later when she found that he had no treat for her.

Henry laughed and patted her rump.

“And over here, Princess. You wouldn’t know it when you see her on the field, but she’s very particular when it comes to—well, everything. No Pelham for Her Royal Highness. It took me ages to find a saddle that fits her right. And she’s picky with humans, too—she won’t let just anyone groom her.”

“Is she,” Alex said, suddenly regretting that he’d immediately held out his hand to the white mare as well.

Her ears shifted as she watched him. Then, at last, she came forward, sniffing curiously at his fingers before she let him stroke her cheek.

“It is an honor to meet you, Princess,” Alex said.

She snorted and shook her head, then rubbed it against his shoulder. Alex grimaced at the wet patch of horse saliva that now adorned his shirt.

“Thank you,” he muttered, then took a step back before she could decide to take an interest in his trousers as well.

“She likes you. That’s a good sign.”

Alex suddenly realized just why the two mares were standing out here in the corridor in front of their boxes, why there was a basket full of brushes and other tools—and why Henry was somewhat dusty and sweaty.

Alex raised a brow. “Don’t you have servants for that? A Royal Groom, or something?”

Henry laughed, unapologetic. “I’m not coming all the way out here not to spend time with them. And… I like it. Especially those weeks before a match, when the stable’s all quiet. No teams, no guests, no reporters, just me and the girls getting some exercise in.”

Alex allowed his eyes to rake up and down Henry’s body, lingering once more on those disgustingly tight jodhpurs.

“Is that why we’re here?” he drawled. “For _exercise_?”

A moment later, he found himself pulled into a small room. Motes of dust were dancing in the air, and the light that fell in came through frosted glass that assured privacy—probably to deter thieves. There was expensive leather gear everywhere—saddles gleaming in black and brown, bridles, halters, reins. Whips.

Alex swallowed.

“This is…”

“The tack room,” Henry said patiently, his eyes full of laughter. “Really, Alex. Didn’t I explain all of this last time?”

Alex licked his lips, suddenly breathless. “I think I might need another lesson in horsemanship,” he murmured. “For example, what do you call that over there?”

Henry laughed at him, the skin around his eyes wrinkling, and Alex’s stomach doing weird things at the sight.

“Really, Alex.” The words were teasing, although he reached out to take hold of the length of leather. “These are reins.”

“And what are they good for?” Alex inquired innocently, although he was already so hard it hurt and they hadn’t even touched.

He had no idea how he was going to survive this encounter. He could already see the headlines. _First Son Found Dead in Royal Leather Sex Dungeon._

His mother would kill him all over again for what that would do to diplomatic relations with Britain.

Henry came closer, his eyes warm and playful. “I thought about this, you know,” he murmured. “The things you said—did—when we met at that match in Greenwich. I’m not wrong, am I? You like this?”

“No,” Alex said. “No, I don’t _like_ this. Holy shit, I’m so into this I think I’m going to die if you don’t touch me, you beautiful idiot!”

Henry released a surprised laugh of relief. “Tell me what you want?”

A frustrated sound tore free from Alex’s throat. “How would I know? I never even knew I had a leather kink, before...” He waved his hand helplessly at Henry.

Then he swallowed as a sudden idea came to him.

Okay, it might have been less like a spontaneous idea and more like a fantasy he absolutely didn’t wank to in his White House bedroom for, oh, six or seven times since that damn match.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that you should tie me up. My hands behind my back. It’s really for the best because otherwise I swear to God I’m going to rip that shirt off your back, and then what will people think?”

Henry looked awed and impressed, as if he hadn’t quite believed that Alex really _was_ into it.

“Okay,” he said a moment later. “Okay. I totally know how to do this... Tell me if it’s too tight?”

Alex tried very very hard not to moan when Henry turned him around and gently took hold of his wrists. The leather was warm and smooth against his skin as Henry slowly wound the reins around his wrists. He didn’t tie them very tightly; Alex was pretty sure that he’d be able to simply slip out of them if he wanted.

But the thing was, he didn’t want to. He liked the feel of the leather against his skin. He liked the scent of Henry, all warm and dusty after his workout with the horses. There were even bits of straw in Henry’s hair. It really couldn’t get any more clichéd.

Alex was so into it that he nearly lost it then and there when Henry dropped to his knees before him.

“Everything okay?” Henry said innocently, and Alex could only make an incoherent sound when Henry began to unzip his trousers.

A moment later, at last, Henry’s mouth was on him, and the room was finally blessedly silent. No more teasing remarks from Henry—just the heat of his mouth, the warm leather around Alex’s wrists, the strange sensation of being helpless when he tentatively pulled on his bonds and found that the leather didn’t give.

The sensation made his heart race. In reward, Henry’s hot, wet tongue traced around the tip of his cock, and Alex moaned again.

“Henry,” he gasped, “please...”

Henry swallowed him down whole, his tongue sliding firmly against the length of his cock. Alex gasped, trembling as he pulled at the leather again—not to break free, not to escape, but simply for the pleasure of feeling the leather tighten around his skin, feeling his own defenselessness, the heat of Henry’s mouth, his soft soft lips spreading wide around Alex’s cock...

He came like that, in an abrupt rush of pleasure that made his knees tremble, his arms still behind his back, leaning against a desk as his hips came forward into Henry’s mouth who swallowed around him.

It was Henry, too, who was the first to manage to speak again. Alex glared at him weakly, but he couldn’t keep up the act; he started laughing even before Henry had freed him from the reins.

“You planned this! You, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, absolutely planned to have your wicked way with me in this Leather Dungeon of yours.”

“Happy?” Henry said, smiling as he put the reins back into place.

Alex smiled in return, feeling a wave of almost unbearable tenderness well up in him as he watched Henry, still out of breath, still with straw in his hair, and his knee pads suspiciously dusty now.

“Incredibly happy,” he said. “So happy I might become a fan of this croquet-on-a-horse thing yet. Although I think we’re going to need a lot more _exercise_ first…”


End file.
